


A (slightly) different Christmas tradition

by Salambo06



Series: Tumblr Collection [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Sherlock, Christmas, M/M, Mistletoe, PWP, Rimming, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salambo06/pseuds/Salambo06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"At first, Sherlock only kissed him when they passed under the mistletoe Mrs. Hudson had put above their front door, and John smiled against his lips, surprised Sherlock had even known about this tradition and actually indulged it. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	A (slightly) different Christmas tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Heather](http://snogbox1.tumblr.com/) for her job as a beta !
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://letthechoirsing.tumblr.com/)

At first, Sherlock only kissed him when they passed under the mistletoe Mrs. Hudson had put above their front door, and John smiled against his lips, surprised Sherlock had even known about this tradition and actually indulged it. 

Then there is another kiss, a day later as they are leaving after Lestrade called about a morbid crime scene that had left Sherlock shaking with anticipation. This time, the kiss is much more heated, Sherlock’s tongue invading his mouth as soon as John parts his lips and John is left breathless and panting when Sherlock pulls away, smiling proudly at him.

The third time happens after they come back from a long day at the Yard, exhausted and ready for a well deserved break, John wishing for nothing more but to curl around Sherlock in the warmth of their bed and sleep for hours. But as soon as they arrive, Sherlock pushes him against the door, sliding his body down a little so he can thrust once, twice against John’s already interested cock before letting go, leaving John well awake and hungry for more.

John wonders for a moment what’s happening to Sherlock but eventually lets it pass. It’s only when they decide to go out for dinner that he truly understands what’s going on. The moment they are under the mistletoe again, Sherlock attacks him. His hands find John’s arse right away and Sherlock’s lips ravish his neck as he rocks against him.

“You know, you’re only supposed to kiss under mistletoe,” John gasps as he titles his head back against the door, giving Sherlock better access. 

“How boring.” Sherlock smiles against his neck and steps back, leaving John panting and hard. “Coming?”

This time John is ready for Sherlock’s mouth when they arrive at the top of the stairs and he slides his fingers in Sherlock’s hair as he finds himself being pushed against the door once again. John moans inside their kiss and lets Sherlock’s hands work their magic. Locking his legs around Sherlock’s waist, John throws his head back and whimpers as Sherlock opens both of their trousers and begins to stroke them. It’s slow, so slow, and John loves every second of it, loves that Sherlock knows exactly what pace could keep them going for hours. John crashes their mouths together again. One of Sherlock’s fingers is teasing at the slit of his cock and thrills of pleasure race through John’s spine, his moans getting louder and louder with every stroke. He can feel Sherlock’s own erection against his, hot and hard, and John begins to thrust into Sherlock’s hand. Anyone could come up and catch them and John has never felt more aroused.

“Fuck, Sherlock.”

“You know,” Sherlock pants against his lips, “I hung some mistletoe above our bed earlier.”

John can’t help the light giggle that escapes him as he feels Sherlock smile against his mouth, “So very clever.”

Putting his arms around Sherlock's neck, John allows Sherlock carry him to their bed, already loving this version of the holiday tradition. But Sherlock walks to the sitting room, his hand still around them both, and John gasps in surprise when they land on the couch.

“I thought you said our -” John says as Sherlock begins to unbutton his jacket but he stops, looking at the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling and laughs, “Oh, look at that.”

Sherlock hums against his shoulder blade before kissing every patch of skin on John’s chest as he gets rid of John’s shirt. He licks at John’s scars, teeth grazing at the ravaged skin before sliding down to John’s nipples, nipping and teasing. John’s hands find Sherlock’s hair again, his fingers applying more pressure against his scalp. But Sherlock has something else in mind and he continues to trail down John’s torso, his tongue darting out to lick at John’s navel. John inhales deeply, his cock so close to this marvellous mouth. 

“Sherlock.” He hisses, looking down as Sherlock smirks and licks one long stripe against John’s length. “Oh, fuck.”

But then Sherlock’s hands are pushing his trousers and pants down, John lifting his hips so Sherlock can finish undressing him. John’s clothes are soon forgotten on the floor whereas Sherlock is still fully dressed and looking down at him hungrily. John licks his lips, Sherlock’s eyes following the movement. He lowers himself just enough to suck John’s tongue into his mouth but keeps their bodies apart. 

“Sherlock, please.” John whimpers but Sherlock stands up, walking backward until he’s standing between their chairs. John sits back and follows Sherlock’s stare as he looks up, another branch of mistletoe hanging above him. “Oh, you planned this perfectly, haven’t you?”

Sherlock only nods and John’s eyes revel in the erotic sight before him. Sherlock’s cheeks are red, so red John could swear he had just run a marathon but he knows it’s only because of him. Despite the Belstaff, John can see that Sherlock is breathing rapidly, the buttons of his shirt threatening to burst with every breath and his trousers are open just enough to let his cock be freed, lean and leaking against Sherlock's shirt. “I guess this is my turn.” John smiles and gets to his feet, taking his time as he walks towards him.

“How did I miss all this?” John asks when he’s close enough.

“As always, you see but you do not observe, John,” Sherlock smiles at him knowingly. John kisses his smile away. 

“I may be late for all this,” John breathes against his lips, “But I think I’ve got the rest figured out.”

He kisses Sherlock one last time before sliding his hand underneath Sherlock’s coat, removing it slowly until it lands on the floor, kicking it away with his feet. He lets his hands caress Sherlock’s arms and then steps away, taking in the sight before him. If Sherlock wants to play, then John will not disappoint him. He takes hold of his own cock, stroking himself from base to tip and exhales loudly, Sherlock moaning before him. John smirks at him and continues stroking himself while turning around Sherlock. He stops behind him and closes the distance between them, his arms circling Sherlock’s waist and Sherlock immediately bends his knees so John’s cock can rest against his arse. John begins to thrust lightly against him, tugging Sherlock’s shirt out of his trousers, making sure not to touch Sherlock’s erection. 

“John,” Sherlock breathes out as John begins to unbutton his shirt, still rocking against his arse. “John.”

The friction is too rough, Sherlock’s trousers are still on, but John doesn’t stop, knowing very well that Sherlock will lose his self control quite rapidly at this pace. When the last button of his shirt is undone, John slides his hand up Sherlock’s chest, his fingers barely brushing the already hard nipples and his ticklish belly, enjoying the way Sherlock shivers under his touch. John places his hands on Sherlock’s hip bones, encouraging Sherlock to push back against him and the added pressure makes John growl, the need for more skin becoming too strong. John removes Sherlock’s shirt entirely, his lips immediately finding the bare skin of his back. 

“John, come on,” Sherlock moans, both of his hands now grasping John’s arse.

“What do you want?” John asks, smiling as Sherlock digs his fingers into his skin and urges him to thrust harder. 

John giggles against Sherlock’s back and slides his hands further down the smooth chest until his fingers slip under the waistband of Sherlock’s pants, teasing a little before pushing down both trousers and pants as the same time. Both of them moan loudly when John’s cock finally comes in contact with Sherlock’s bare arse. John rests his forehead against Sherlock’s back, looking down as he takes himself in hand and pushes the head of his cock, already wet with precome, just above Sherlcok’s arse cheeks, not quite parting them. John gives a wicked smile, enjoying the way Sherlock’s knees buckle. John lowers himself just enough for his cock to slide between Sherlock’s thighs and thrusts once, cursing himself for only keeping lube in their bedroom. Sherlock’s skin is too dry for John to properly thrust again, but he stays there, the pressure against his cock making him dizzy with lust. Sherlock is breathing rapidly in front of him, his hands still clutching at John’s arse and just when John’s hand gets close to Sherlock’s throbbing erection, the man straightens up and leaves John alone, naked and panting in the middle of their sitting room. 

Sherlock walks to the kitchen and John hurries behind him and nearly loses his self control when Sherlock bends himself on the kitchen table, arse in the air, head buried in the crook of his arm. John sees another mistletoe above him. “Come on,” Sherlock pants.

John falls to his knees behind him, his hands massaging Sherlock’s arse for a moment before spreading the cheeks open and blowing on Sherlock’s tight hole, the muscle working itself open for John’s hungry eyes. John kisses his way from Sherlock’s thighs to the lower curve of his arse, never quite touching Sherlock’s entrance, enjoying the muffled sound coming from Sherlock’s mouth. John slides his tongue around Sherlock’s hole, avoiding getting too close before licking one long wet stripe over the tight muscle, Sherlock going rigid before crying out loudly, _so desperate already_. 

“John, John, _John_ ”. Sherlock moans, pressing his arse back into his face as John begins to properly fuck him with his tongue. He licks and licks, his tongue breaching the tight hole again and again, leaving no time for Sherlock to catch his breath as he clutches around John’s tongue with every thrust. His cock is throbbing between his legs and John can feel his own precome on his stomach but touching himself right now means letting go of Sherlock and that is the last thing John wants at this moment. He absolutely loves Sherlock like this, wanton, reduced to a writhing mess and not being able to bring himself off. 

“John, god, stop.” Sherlock whimpers above him, his legs shaking and damp with sweat under John’s hands.

John kisses one last time over Sherlock’s hole and licks his way up his spine until he reaches his nape, covering it in small kisses, waiting for Sherlock to regain his breath. His own erection has been forgotten this all time, and being close to Sherlock’s bare arse again makes John shiver with anticipation. He can’t wait to discover where Sherlock hung the next mistletoe, knowing it will only increase his already burning arousal. 

“Alright,” John whispers when Sherlock slowly stands up again, “where should we go now?”

“Can’t you guess that one?” Sherlock smiles as he turns around to kiss him. “I did tell you about it after all.”

John’s cock twitches at the words and he takes Sherlock by the hand, practically running to their bedroom and slamming the door behind them. He pushes Sherlock back against it and captures his mouth, aligning their groins and thrusting harshly. Sherlock locks one of his legs around John’s hip, lowering so they can truly rut against one another. John kisses and bites and licks at those perfect lips, swallowing Sherlock’s moans and whimpers. Their erections are already wet enough for the friction to bring them closer and closer, Sherlock trembling in his arms, hands clenched at John’s biceps. 

“John, the bed.” Sherlock breathes out loudly and this time it’s John who carries him, never breaking their kiss. “Yes, yes.” Sherlock moans when they’re finally lying on top of the duvet, canting his hips in search of more contact. 

“I hope you planned on me fucking you in this bed,” John says against his lips, “because I have every intention to do so.”

“I didn’t bother putting mistletoe all over the flat for nothing.” Sherlock growls and John can’t help the laugh that rises from his chest. 

“Good.” He smiles before kissing Sherlock again, opening Sherlock’s legs wider only to tease the already loose and wet entrance with one finger. He pushes the tip just a little inside, Sherlock’s body welcoming him without restraint and John breathes out slowly, calming down his quickening heartbeat. “Sherlock, lube.” 

Sherlock practically throws the tube to him and John finds himself laughing again, “Will you hurry!” Sherlock snaps, pushing back onto John’s finger.

“Patience, love.” John replies, leaning down to kiss him as he slicks his fingers and slides two of them inside Sherlock immediately, his tongue having already prepared him a bit. 

“Hmm, John.” Sherlock tilts his head, arching his back as John continues to work his fingers inside him, avoiding his prostate on purpose. Sherlock has been too close for too long and John wants this moment to last. “More.”

John doesn’t need to be told twice and adds another finger quickly, Sherlock rocking on the sheets. John presses his mouth to Sherlock’s neck, biting down lightly, just the way Sherlock loves so much and is rewarded by a strong push against his finger. Then Sherlock sits up abruptly, causing John to almost fall onto his back. 

“I’ve waited enough,” Sherlock explains as he puts lube on his hand and slicks up John’s cock with efficiency, John’s guttural moan resonating in the quiet room. “Inside me, now.”

Sherlock lies back on the bed, taking John with him as he circles his legs around his waist and presses his arse against him. John manoeuvres his now aching erection so the head is resting against Sherlock’s entrance.

“John!” Sherlock moans, his heels digging into John’s lower back and urging him to push inside, which John willingly obliges. 

It doesn’t matter how many times they’ve done this before, the first thrust alway takes John’s breath away entirely. So John concentrates on Sherlock’s face under him, his intense stare, his mouth hanging open as John slides slowly inside him. He stares at this beautiful man, so completely his in this very moment and remembers to breathe when his pelvis finally rests against Sherlock’s arse. They stay still for a second, Sherlock hands moving to intertwine his fingers with John’s before canting his hips just enough for John to sink even deeper.  
John lowers himself onto Sherlock’s body, trapping his cock between their bellies and brushes their mouths together once, twice before licking at the lower lip, waiting for Sherlock to let him in. Only then does John begin to rock inside him. He goes slow, knowing Sherlock will urge for more quickly, and slides his tongue against Sherlock’s in the same rhythm. He brings their locked hands above Sherlock’s head, squeezing and quickening his pace until Sherlock has to throw his head back when John hits his prostate over and over again.

“John, _John_!”

“Yes, love.” John pounds harder, faster. 

“I need, I...”

But John doesn't need him to finish, he knows exactly what Sherlock needs right now. Pushing himself up a little, John slides his hands between their bodies and finds Sherlock’s leaking cock, stroking it in time as he continues to drive into him. Sherlock is crying out now, loudly, and John feels himself lose control. He clutches at Sherlock’s hand, his movements more and more erratic, the sight of Sherlock under him making John hungry for more.

“Fuck, Sherlock.” 

Sherlock only moans in response, his pale neck exposed to him and John wastes no time in ravishing it. He sucks and bites and hangs on for dear life when he feels Sherlock’s hole contracting around him as Sherlock comes all over his hand and chest. John drives into him for another three or four times before arching his back, his head thrown back and his eyes finding the mistletoe above their bed as he comes deep inside Sherlock. 

“God, Sherlock.” John breathes, rolling onto his back next to Sherlock.

Sherlock hums beside him, shifting closer until his head is resting on John’s chest, one leg thrown over John’s. John lets his fingers caress Sherlock’s back absently, catching his breath and enjoying the few minutes of pure bliss as they come down from their orgasm. Soon enough Sherlock’s lips find his again for a slow and tender kiss, Sherlock pressing himself over John. 

“I will never look at mistletoe the same way again.” John smiles into their kiss, feelling the rumbles of Sherlock’s chest as he laughs.

“That was my plan all along.” Sherlock replies, tucking his head back down on John’s chest. “I want you to think about today everytime we walk under a mistletoe.”

“You realise there are some all over the city right now?”

Sherlock nods and John doesn’t need to see him to know Sherlock is smiling, “You mad man.” John kisses the mop of curls before him. “My mad man.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are very appreciated ;)


End file.
